Dust Becomes Him
by little-bit5
Summary: Is this the end of the vampire Spike? What happens when Spike's all dusty but he's left behind a video for the gang? Final Chapter Up!
1. Does Anyone Have a Broom?

Title: Dust Becomes Him

Author: little_bit

Category:  BtVS, Parody.

Rating:  Um, PG-13 for bad language and copious amounts of sexual innuendo (Maybe).

Disclaimer:  Seriously, is this even necessary?  Do we really think Joss is posting stories here?  Not mine, blah, blah, blah.  

Summary:  Is this the end of the vampire Spike?  What happens when Spike's all dusty but he's left behind a video for the gang?

Author's notes:  I ripped off a part of this from that episode of WKRP in Cincinnati where Jennifer's really old boyfriend dies and they go to the reading of the will and lots of funny but touching shit happens.  Has anyone else ever seen that ep?  Boy, was Loni Anderson a beautiful woman.  And that purple suit and hat combo she wears?  Stunning.  Absolutely stunning.

Dedications:  No one brings the funny like the people in the Bad Buffy fic forum at TWoP.  Thank you so much Sea, ozfan, and Poly for inciting me to waste all my time at work and at home obsessing over fanfic.  Long may we reign.

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The petite but highly-strung blonde was bawling like a big fat bawling baby in a dark, dirty, musty corner of the crypt.  Which basically meant she was in the centre of the crypt, as the whole damn place was dark, dirty, and musty.

"Jeez Louise, how the hell did Spike live in this place?"  Xander toed a few cobwebby liquor bottles out of the way as he steered the wet and shaky slayer to the couch.  "It's all dank and disgusting."

"Spike...loved...the dank!  Whaaaa WHAAA!" Buffy blubbered as she curled up on the rancid couch, clutching a coffee can to her chest like it was her ticket back into heeaa-ven.

"Xander!  Be nice.  Buffy's having a really hard time with this."  Willow had her resolve face on, which really didn't menace anyone, except those who knew that it was a bad idea to piss off a recovering ex-witch lesbian.  So basically no one in Sunnydale was afraid of Willow or the resolve face.  But of course, the people of Sunnydale were morons.

"I don't get it.  Hearing that Deadboy Junior literally bit the dust was one of the happiest days of my life.  Why is Buffy going all Halle Berry on us?  Fangy the Clown is not worth the tears."

Willow, Tara, Anya, and Dawn all exchanged meaningful womanly glances that conveyed their deep understanding of the situation.  Because they were women.  And women have intuition.  So they knew what Buffy was feeling.  As the estrogen level in the room reached dangerous proportions, Xander mentally reminded himself one more time to get some male friends.

"Well, Xander, you can't just expect her to get over it, POOF, like he never even existed.  When you die I plan on having an appropriate period of mourning, during which I'll wear attractive little black cocktail dresses while settling your estate." Anya frowned at the thought of Dead!Xander, but brightened at the idea of financial management.  "And each night I'll set aside an appropriate amount of time to cry.  You mean that much to me."

"Yes, An, but we're in love.  We're supposed to mourn each other when we die.  Buffy hated Spike. With a vengeance."  Xander rambled on as he collected more frequent flyer miles between Sunnydale and Egypt.  "She could barely stand to spend five minutes with the guy.  Am I the only one who sensed that seething tension that rippled between them every time they were in the same room?  Passionate, burning emotions.  Of hatred.  Why do you think he was always hiding in here?  To keep away from her.  Because she hated him so much."

"Huh!"  Dawn gave a perfect little teenaged dismissive laugh, coupled with a shoulder shrug and a totally gratuitous flip of her hair.  Then she sat down next to her puddle of a sister, who ignored her.  But that was nothing new.

"X-Xander, I-I-I th-think it was m-more than th-that.  Th-they w-were l-lov ---"

Willow began to frantically wave her arms at Tara.  In sort of a gay way. 

"I-I m-mean they w-were involved in a-a re-relation ---"  More arm waving.  This time less with the gay, more with the urgency.  "B-Buffy and S-Spike w-were s-s-s..."  Tara couldn't think of an appropriate euphemism that wouldn't make Xander's head explode.

"SPARRING PARTNERS!"

"What?"  Xander turned his perpetually stunned gaze back at Willow.

"You know, _sparring partners_."  Willow tried to give the necessary wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more swagger to her words, complete with jaunty air quotes, but it was hopeless.  Xander had at some time ripped out the part of his brain that picked up clues.  Even clues that took off their clothes and gave him a lap dance.  

Xander looked over at Buffy, who at this point was stroking the Nabob canister like it held the secrets to world peace, time travel, and the Caramilk Bar.  Buffy, he decided, was completely out of her gourd.

"Are you telling me Buffy's this upset because she doesn't get to kick Spike's ass anymore?"

"No Xander, I think she's upset because she doesn't get to **_lick_** his a-"

"ANYA!" Willow and Tara proclaimed in lesbionic symmetry.  

"What?  I often find that type of activity to be extremely pleasurable."  Anya explained, as her constant interest in anything sexual was about to send her off on a dangerous tangent.  "And I always assumed that with his tight ropey muscles, long expressive fingers, and wicked rolling tongue, Spike would be an amazing lover.  Not to mention the large bulge in his pants.  If you know what I mean."  Anya winked playfully at the girls.

Tara, lesbian through and through, shook her head at the phallic reference, while Willow tried to hide her nod of obvious understanding.

"Willow!'

"What, I wasn't always gay!  And it's not like you can forget a thing like that.  But don't worry, I'm totally GAY NOW."  

Tara hid her sad eyes from her former lover as she went over to sit with the still weeping uncontrollably slayer.  

"Buffy, hon, how you doing?"  Tara asked gently, as she was the only person in the room to still have actual concern for her fellow man.  Or womyn, as it were.

Buffy wiped a snotty nose on the sleeve of her stunning new black cashmere sweater.  She may have been broke, twice undead, and at the memorial of her recently dusted vampire lover, but a girl had to look good, after all.

"Tara.  How did this happen?  Just last week, Spike and I were lying naked on this couch after another incredible, wall-quaking, earth-shaking marathon sex session –" Both Tara and Dawn jumped up off the couch and carefully wiped off their clothes. " – and now he's, he's…WHAaaaa."  The sniveling slayer lost the ability to speak once more as phlegmy sobs wracked her body.  It really wasn't pretty.  In fact, she was a set of antlers away from looking like a Chaos demon.

"Lining a coffee canister?"  Xander finished Buffy's thought with glee.  His selective hearing had allowed him to avoid all of the Buffy-and-Spike having sex talk.  Living in oblivion truly was bliss.

Xander's offhand comment set the slayer's lip a-quivering and her body a-shaking.  All her pent up emotions, which had been flowing in an Amazon of tears and snot and phlegm, were now redirected in a venomous little hissy fit of rage and anger, and just a bit of PMS.

"How can you?  How – you – you carpenter!"  Buffy stomped her little bitty foot, which was surprisingly strong and actually put a hole in the concrete floor.  "You didn't know him.  I knew him.  Spike was strong and sweet and evil and endearing."  She stormed towards Xander, backing him into the wall. "He helped me and all of you and my god you should have seen him naked!"

"Uh, Buffy?"

Buffy's dewy eyes stopped shooting figurative daggers at Xander for a moment as she cast a glance at her glowy sister.

"Buffy, you're, uh, spilling Spike."

"What?"  Buffy glanced down and realized that in her haste to beat the crap out of Xander, she had let her can o' Spike tilt slightly and that she was now pouring the really-dead-this-time sexy vampire's ashes all over the crypt floor.

"Oh, NOOOO!"  Buffy wailed.  "Does anyone have a broom?"

As the by now certifiable slayer attempted to gather up with her hands the last earthly remains of the best lover she'd ever had, Xander rejoined his kabble of friendly females and thanked good Godfrey Cambridge that Nabob!Spike had saved him from the wrath of Buffy.  And it really chafed his hide to admit that even dusty, Spike was still helping him out.  And that he still had better luck with women.  I mean, just look at how Buffy was fondling the dust.  If Xander didn't know better, he'd think maybe Buffy had a little thing for Spike.  Nah.

As Buffy deposited all the dust, ash, dirt, and cobwebs that she could into the coffee can, she resolved to find a more suitable receptacle for her to carry Spike around in.  Maybe a cute ashtray for around the house, a crystal tumbler for more formal occasions, and a nice sturdy and compact Tupperware container while slaying.

"So what exactly are we waiting around here for?"  Xander was getting impatient.  And hungry.  He had forgotten to eat his usual meal between breakfast and brunch.

"Clem s-said he'd m-meet us h-here with the p-papers.  It s-seems S-Spike had a will."

"Now this, I gotta see." Xander snorted.

"Someone's at the door.  Someone's at the door.  Someone's at the door."  Buffy chanted in an eerily quite voice, her earlier hysterics replaced, apparently, by the psychic abilities of a dead character on a long cancelled TV show that was really good and never should have been cancelled in the first place.  Ahem.  

"Don't worry Buffy," Willow cooed in an excellent friend like manner, trying to prove to Tara that she thought of other people besides herself by settling Buffy back down on the sofa of sex, "I'm sure it's just – "

"Angel." Tara stated.

"Angel?" Xander, Anya, and Dawn questioned.

"Angel!" Buffy shrieked.

And sure enough, there stood Angel in the doorway of the crypt.  All dark and broody and mysterious and, aw, hell, who was he kidding.  There stood Angel in the doorway of the crypt, looking like a gigantic dork.  A gigantic dork holding a baby carrier.

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TBC…

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_Simpson's Quote of the Day:  "Me fail English?  That's unpossible!"_


	2. Of Dust and Dorks

_Previously on "Buffy"_……Spike's body……Repeatedly……In many different positions.

Seriously: Spike's dust, Xander's a moron, Willow's gay, Buffy's "wrecked" (hee hee), Dawn's annoying, Willow's gay, Tara's a sweetheart, Angel's a dork and they're all waiting for Clem at Spike's Shaggin' Shack.  And did I mention Willow's gay?

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Angel shuffled around nervously for a moment, head down and shoulders slouched in a hollow imitation of the mildly-interesting-but-not-as-charismatic-as-Spike character he used to be.  As the six super friends took in his goober-like appearance, each had their own unique and totally original reaction, which, since they were all selfish bastards who would never grow up, they all decided to voice at exactly the same time.

"A-Angel, s-so nice to s-see you," stammered Tara, who was so sweet and kind and good and gentle that she always had a nice word for everyone and it was enough to make you just want to hurl.

"Angel, what's with the baby?"  Addict!Willow had lost a lot of her tact and just blurted things out.  

"You look lumpy."  Anya had never had any tact to begin with, but she also had a blind spot for her own puffy paramour.

"Way to bring the lurk, Lurch," grumped grumpy not-really-human Dawn, who was smugly pleased at her strained alliteration, as it might bring her a moment of attention.

"You're evil again!"  Xander screamed, as his mind was stuck on repeat.  Especially when it came to candy.

"Whaaaa, Whaaaaaa!" wailed Buffy, who buried her face in the coffee can and sniffed up a little Nabob!Spike, as she realized that even in dustiness, Spike was way more appealing than spending time with Brood Boy and his Amazing Hair (_Playing twice weekly at the Copa.  No cover before 9_).

"Whoa.  One at a time."  Luckily, Angel had some of that super-hero like vampire hearing that you hear so much about, so he heard each of the Scoob's comments.  "Tara, it's nice to see you too.  Willow, it's a long story.  Anya, I'm solid, not lumpy.  There's a huge difference.  Dawn, shouldn't you be in some other dimension by now?  And Xander, I'm not evil.  Except when singing."

"But you brought snacks!"  Xander pointed at the shockingly inconsistent plot contrivance that pops up in this fic but hopefully will never, ever be seen again.

"He's not a snack.  He's a prophecy!"  Angel stared with ultimate paternal love at the plot hole.  The type of pure loving joy and happiness that should have caused his "Happy Happy Joy Joy No Soul Clause" to kick in, because isn't parental love more pure and powerful than one night stand orgasm love?  Apparently not.  So, to recap, not evil, staring stupidly, everyone uncomfortable.

"Spike…loved…snacks!"  Buffy wailed like a professional wailer at an international wailing competition.  And she was winning.  She hadn't noticed that her attempts at being close with Nabob!Spike by snorting him obsessively were resulting in a nosebleed.

Angel went to his former true love's side reluctantly, as it meant pulling his eyes away from the child that brought him the greatest happiness a vampire had ever known.  And still with the not evil.  He sat down beside the borderline emaciated warrior of the people and couldn't help but think of his partner in championship kai-rumption, Cordelia, and her really, really nice big rack.  Unfortunately, this line of thought gave him a happy of an entirely different kind.

Careful not to invade Buffy's personal space with his, uh, rising music, Angel pried the coffee can from her hands and set Spike between the TV and the bar, where he knew he'd be happy.

"Buffy," Angel spoke soulfully, because he had a soul.  "Buffy, I'm so sorry.  But please, you can't let yourself get so worked up over Spike's demise.  He was evil, after all.  Or has everyone forgotten about that?"

Dawn, Willow, Anya, and Tara all gave the formerly evil but now just totally bulky waste of space a condescending look that again flooded the room with a whole mess of female friendly pheromones, while Xander nodded in agreement with the original Deadboy, as it seemed to be the only way to insert some testosterone in the room.  Did vampires have hormones?

"Oh, Angel!"  Buffy's fragile state had her reverting to the moon-eyed high school girl she had once been.  But then she remembered what a crappy lover Angel had been and got over it, because even though he was dusty and clogging her nostrils, Spike still enflamed her passions more than any man or evil-undead-man ever would.  Then she started to cry all over again when she realized that using Spike as substitute crack was the only way he was ever going to be in her again.  If you know what I mean.

"He wasn't (choked sob) evil…he was (choked sob) trying so hard…and, god (big smile) was he ever hard."  

"Yeah, I heard."  Angel brooded broodily at the thought of Buffy with Spike.

Finally realizing that Angel being in Sunnydale was bad idea because of the whole network crossover thing, Buffy started to come to her senses.

"What do you mean?  Who told you about me and Spike?"

Buffy looked at her coven of friends, who were slowly starting to look like Josie and the Pussycats.  Willow, Anya, Tara, and Dawn suddenly found Spike's collection of mini-bar bottles to be utterly fascinating.  Xander listened intently to Angel and Buffy, but had no idea what they were talking about.

"No one told me Buffy.  I heard."

"Heard?  Could you vague it up a little more for me?"

"Vampire.  Supernatural senses.  I.  Heard.  You." Buffy still wasn't getting it, and as long a Spike was dead, probably wasn't going to be getting it for awhile, so she set her hands on her hips and pouted.  Angel sighed a mopey sigh and spelled it out for her.  "You two were, uh, loud."

"We were – and you – _heard?_" Buffy blushed at the idea of their wild monkey sex being so thunderous that they could be heard a hundred miles away.  She was actually kind of impressed.  And just a smidge turned on.  "That's just…wow."

"Uh, yeah.  Can we not talk about this?"

"Not talk about what?"  Xander asked as he played a losing game of Connect Four.

Ignoring Xander almost as well as most people ignored Dawn, Angel and Buffy glared at each other and both had the same thought at the same time: _What did I ever see in you?_

"Then why are you here?"

"Well, I hadn't heard the, uh, vocalizing in about a week, so I called Giles to see if you were alright, and he told me about the dusting and I made my way here."

"What, you can call England but you can't call here?  You are a loser, Angel."  Buffy was getting some of her spunk back as she truly appreciated for the first time how lucky she was to have broken up with Angel's possessive ass.  Which was nowhere near as tight and lickable as Spike's.

"Buffy, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  This relationship was obviously dangerous and wrong and it's my job to help you get out of the shadow of it."

"You don't get it do you Angel.  Spike had changed.  Sure he was still amoral and snarky and annoying and shifty and dead, but I had him totally whipped!"  Buffy was on the verge of tears again as she realized it would take her years to train another guy.

"Buffy, what are you saying?  What exactly did Spike mean to you? Do you want Spike back?"

"Okay, that I understood."  Xander was relieved to comprehend words again.  "We're bringing back what now?"

"Angel, you don't understand.  I don't _want_ to have him back, I _need_ to have him back.  It was so good.  So very, very, good.  Mind-blowing, call the Guinness Book of World Records good.  Or maybe Ripley's Believe It or Not, cause, you know, vampire.  And that was just the coat.  I haven't even begun to describe the sex."

"Buffy."

 "I'd need charts and graphs, cause, WOW, it think we defied the laws of thermo and aero dynamics a few times."

"Buffy."

"Did you know Spike was tripled jointed?  And he could do this little back-flip-and-slide thing that – "

"BUFFY!"

"What? You asked."

Angel moaned slightly at what his unlife had become.  He used to have it really sweet.  Duffle coat, no responsibilities, hot and cold running rats.  He could go back to that.  Except for the lack of hair gel.  So he sucked it up and took one for the team, deciding that for once in his overly prophecy riddled existence he'd actually offer Buffy a choice instead of making all her decisions for her, because hey, that had always worked so well in the past.

"Look Buffy, if you really want Spike back, there's is a spell sort of ritual-thing-a-ma-bob that Wolfram and Hart used to bring back Darla. Maybe we could figure out a way – "

"Wait.  Darla's back?" Buffy gave her non-stop Spike thoughts a pause.

"Uh, she was, but she sort of dusted herself.  And about that…"

"Well thank god.  I don't ever want to hear anything about that crazy bitch ever again.  Seriously.  People think Spike's nasty?  That ho put the ho in ho-bag.  She put the skank in skank-pot.  Brought the slut to Slut City.  And now she's gone again with nothing left to remember her by.  Yay!"

"Right.  Good to know."  Angel covertly kicked the baby carrier behind the nearest sarcophagus.

"There's just one problem, Buffy.  The spell would bring Spike back – " Angel paused for maximum angst, " – as a…"

"Clem!"

"The spell would bring Spike back as Clem?"  Buffy gave her cute little wide-eyed incredulous look.

"Clem!"  Dawn shrieked, thrilled to see a person who didn't know her too well and might actually spend some time with her.

"Hey."  Clem waved one of his floppy, hooved, webbed, claw-like hand thingies at the gang.  "Sorry I'm late.  Had to pick up a few kittens.  You know, cause I play kitten poker.  And then eat the kittens."

The gang all nodded in understanding, while Angel, out of the loop and desperately needing some touch up hair gel, could only give Clem his patented 'What the fuck' look.  Which basically just made him look like he was constipated.  Frequently.

"Looks like everyone's here.  Let's gather round and get this thing over with.  I've got a hot date tonight."

"Really?"  Dawn feigned interest in the wrinkly demon because she had annoyed the hell out of everyone she knew and desperately needed a friend.  Any friend.  Would you like to be her friend?  "Who with?"

"Sophie."

"Sophie!"  Everyone but Angel cried in surprise.

"Yeah, her skin may be tight, but that girl's a pistol, I tells ya.  She's sassy.  I like sassy almost as much as I like pus – (PG-13! PG-13!) – kitties."  Tara and Willow nodded in agreement.  In a totally gay way.

"Clem?"  Buffy was back in tremulous lost-her-lover mode.  "Is it true, did Spike leave a will?"

"Yeah, got everything right here.  He asked that you all be here for this – Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, and Angel.  Hey Angel."

"Do we know each other?"

"No.  But Spike described the hair."

"Fair enough."

"So what do we do?  Have a little ceremony?"  Much to her surprise, someone actually listened to Dawn's question.

"A funeral for a vampire?  How lame is that?"  Xander's overused comeback was not exactly the response Dawn had hoped for.

"Will, maybe you could put something together?"  Buffy was really taking the widow act seriously now.

"Like what?"

"You know, candles, music, scripture."

"Why would I know how to put together a religious ceremony?  I stopped being Jewish in like, season 3.  And hello, GAY NOW."

No one really knew what being gay had to with anything, but they sure liked that excuse better than 'I'm addicted!  Addicted to magic!  You know, like addicts!  That magic that helped saved the world on numerous occasions?  Evil.  And addictive.  And I was addicted to it.  But I'm all-better now.  Because I'm gay.'  

"No worries, Spike didn't want anything special.  So we'll just get right to the will."

"Wait.  Don't you need to be a lawyer or something to do this?"  Anya was nothing if not a slave to contracts and processing.  Especially if money was involved.

"Naw.  I'm a notary public.  It'll do."  The fact that an odd-looking, kitten-eating demon named Clem could make a living on the hellmouth as a notary public and not raise alarm bells among the populace didn't seem out of place to anyone.  "Alright, take a seat, and I'll put the tape in."

"Tape?"  Once more, the gang proved they spent way too much time together and spoke as one.

"Yeah, Spike's will?  It's a video."

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TBC…

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_Simpson's Quote of the Day:  "Sweet merciful crap!  My car!"_


	3. Epitaph on a Vampire

_Previously……_ Buffy had really, really shitty taste in men.  Seriously.  Owen?  Scott?  Parker?  Bored now.  Angel?  That controlling, broody, evil half the time, follicly challenged freak?  Her one true love?  Gimme a break.  And don't even get me started on the vamp-hoing Spud boy.  But then Buffy came to her senses and started shagging Spike.  Repeatedly.  In  many different positions.  Only now Spike's dead.  Really dead this time.  Poor Buffy.

Oh, and Xander's puffy, Anya really likes money, Dawn has shiny hair, Tara's the first lesbian saint, Clem's got a thing for pus – uh, kitties, Angel needs to get over himself, and Willow is an ex-Jewish, ex-heterosexual, ex-witch.  And everyone's eagerly anticipating Spike's message from beyond the grave.  Or Nabob canister, as it were.

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"Are you sure it's a will?  Maybe it's just a Billy Idol video."  Xander was really hungry at this point.

"A video?  How thoughtful." Tara cranked up the saccharine meter to dangerously high levels.

"I didn't think vampires could be seen in mirrors and pictures and stuff like that."  Dawn pointed out one of the obvious gaping inconsistencies in Buffyverse vampire mythology.  Good for her.

"We just can't be seen in mirrors."  Angel spoke with his I'm-old-listen-to-me voice of authority, not to be confused with his voice of reason voice, which sounded a lot like his smooth seductive voice, which was suspiciously similar to his angry and upset voice, as well as his happy and content voice, his lost in the throes of passion voice, and who could forget his pained and suffering because he has a soul please forgive him as he walks in the snow voice.  Jeez, one note acting much?

"Pffft." Dawn tossed her incredibly long and super-duper strong, shiny, glowy hair, accidentally knocking over Willow and Clem with its sheer length and weight.  "That makes no sense.  What about the whole lens and mirror thing that's intrinsic to photography?  Sure, I'll give you digital technology, but if vamps don't have a reflection and can only be seen with the human eye, it still makes no sense.  I'm beginning to think the whole vampire lore thing is just a bunch of BS.  Because seriously, the whole sunlight thing?  Spike went out in the sun ALL THE TIME!  And garlic?  How the hell did Spike consume all those wings and pizzas?  And – "

"Dawn!"  Buffy, Angel, Xander, Anya, and Tara all shouted at the desperate for attention teen, who was immediately shocked into submission by the fact that five people remembered who she was and acknowledged her existence at the same time.

"Can we just get on with this?"  Buffy was getting impatient.  Inhaling dusty Nabob!Spike had proven to be a powerful aphrodisiac and, coupled with the thought of seeing Spike's hot, tight, muscled, sexy body, even on a video, was making her horny as hell.  Good thing she'd worn a panty liner.

"Sure."  Clem picked himself up off the floor and opened his brief case, taking out two videotapes.  Everyone sat on the floor around the TV, still avoiding the couch o' carnality.  Except for Buffy, who was used to having her flesh pressed against its cushions, and Angel, who continued with his lame-ass dark brooding would-be lover routine by sitting beside Buffy, totally ignoring the fact that he had turned into a twitchy dork about six exits back.

"Here we go." Clem pressed play and sat down with a large bag of popcorn he'd thoughtfully brought for the gang to share.  Clem loved movie night.

The original Scoobs and their camp followers sat transfixed as the TV lit up with Spike's last message to the world……

……which apparently consisted of bad mood lighting and hard to make out images.  The only audio that could be heard was barely perceptible grunts and moans.

"I'll fix it!"  The Xand-man lumbered over behind the TV and started fiddling with wires.

The picture cleared up almost immediately, revealing that the bad mood lighting was indeed bad mood lighting, in the form of hundreds of candles illuminating Spike's bedroom.  The hard to make out images were the images of two hard bodies doing a hell of a lot more than making out.  And as for the audio.

"…oh god…Cor, luv, that's it…oh, not again…just move your leg a little…Spike, you're killing me…Bloody hell, slayer…oh,yeah, I like that…Cor, very cor, baby…yes,  yes, yes!…"

"Is that better?"  Xander's position behind the TV allowed him to remain happily free of all images of hot monkey sex.

Buffy leapt from the couch and ejected the tape, her tiny, bony, desperately in need of a sandwich body shaking with embarrassment and total consuming desire.  Because the only thing sexier than having sex with Spike was watching herself having sexy sex with Spike.

"Was that – "  Tara's blushing lesbian face was hidden in her sweet little hands.

"Um, yeah, I think maybe…"  Willow couldn't contain her formerly heterosexual shock.

"Way to go, Buffy!  Xander and I have a few tapes of our own." (Like I need to tell you who said that.)

"Look, can we just agree to never speak of this again?"

"Never speak about the what now?"  Xander had finished proving how manly he was by fixing the TV and wanted in on the conversation.

"Buffy making porn with her vampire boyfriend."  Dawn interjected gleefully, her original reaction of 'Eww' quickly surpassed by the knowledge she could now bitch to her sister about needing therapy.

Xander stared blankly at Dawn's response, and sat down without a word, drowning his cluelessness with a handful of buttery salty goodness.

"Sorry, my bad."  Clem put the proper tape in the VCR.  "Spike told me to give _that_ tape to you afterwards, Buffy.  Sort of a private farewell I think he said."

"Yeah, fine, whatever." Buffy muttered, hugging the tape to her chest.  "Let's do this."

Silence enveloped the room once more as the TV flickered to life and Spike's long awaited last will and testament was finally revealed to all.

Spike sat on one of the sarcophagus in his crypt, looking gorgeous and chiseled and dangerous in his black velvet shirt opened just enough to get a glimpse of his Greek statue-like abs, a cigarette in one hand and a tumbler of blood in the other.

"Right then.  I'm bloody well dust am I?  Cor, I never thought it'd come to this.  Well, I guess I did, 'cause I'm making this bleedin' tape, ain't I?  So, I've got a few things to say, and you're all gonna sit there and listen.  And no running commentary from you, monkey boy."

"But I'm all good with the quipiness."  Xander pouted visibly.

"I said shut it carpenter!"  Spike scowled with all the evil he could from the great beyond, having nicely predicted Xander's glib reaction.

"First, I'd like to read a short poem that rather nicely sums up my existence."  He set down his blood and picked up a book.

Groans came from the entire gang, except for Clem, who was munching away happily on popcorn, and Angel, who was always interested in melancholic writing.

"_Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,"_ Xander reached for the remote to fast forward, but Willow grabbed it out of his hand a brought back the resolve face.

_"And the poetry he invented was –_ oh, bugger this."  Video!Spike tossed the book aside and took a swig of blood.  "I don't know why people think I'm so bleedin' interested in sodding poetry," he mumbled.  "Bloody wanker William, ruining my Big Bad reputation.  Why do people obsess over that Nancy boy so much?  Less interesting than the big poofter, I reckon.  Now _I'm_ fascinating."  Video!Spike seemed unaware he was ranting.  "All ambiguous and morally corrupt but helpful.  Fighting the good fight but never betraying who I am.  And I'm exceptional in bed.  Or on the floor.  Or up against a wall…" He paused dreamily, as did Buffy, who was mesmerized by her dead lover's image and his hints at their recently viewed marathon sex.

"Uh, yeah."  Spike shook off his lust filled look.  "Got a few words for each of you.  Tara – "

Tara smiled pleasantly at the TV.

" – stop bleedin' smilin' so much.  And get a backbone for god's sake.  I've known bloody doormats that got walked over less than you.  But you're a good little Glinda, so I'm leaving you my candelabras, to set the mood for those Sapphic moments."

Willow glanced over at her former lover, looking for an invite to one of those moments, but instead she got the finger from the newly backboned witch, who had immediately taken Spike's perceptive advice to heart.

"Anya.  Right fine demon you were.  I sympathize with the loss of powers.  But what are you bloody well thinking?  The whelp?  You can do better.  Oh, and pick a hair colour and stick with it, would ya?  I'm leaving you the number of my colorist."

Anya ran a hand through her over-processed hair, disappointed she hadn't gotten any money.  Because she likes money.

"Whelp.  Get some exercise, man.  Or at least cut back on the Ho-Ho's.  Seriously.  I'm worried about you.  Would be damn pissed if you met your end through high cholesterol instead of one of the bloody and violent ways I planned for you.  I'd leave you my gold pimp daddy necklace, which is always a big hit with the ladies, but I'm afraid it wouldn't fit around your hulking neck.  So I guess you can have my radio, and the end table, and uh, the toaster oven."

A light went off in Xander's head for the first time in months.  "Hey, wait a minute.  He stole all that stuff from me to begin with.  Cheap evil bastard."

"Moving right along.  Red.  Wake up, will you?  You're not gay.  YOU. ARE. NOT .GAY.  Say it with me.  Bi-sexual.  BI – SEX – U – AL.  Kinda rolls off the tongue, don't it?  And the whole excuse thing?  I'm gay, I'm, addicted, blah, blah, blah.  You're a bleedin' ruddy control freak.  Get some counseling before your head explodes with frustration.  I'm leaving you my library, in the hopes that maybe it'll get you back to your cute nerdy roots."

"Well that's…I am too…gay now?"  Willow spoke in a quiet voice, her defenses shattering as all the power was taken out of her formerly emphatic mantra.

"And on to the good stuff.  Angel.  Knew you'd come to see me off, ya bleedin' git.  How's the hair?"

"A little dry actually."  Angel responded, touch by Spike's interest in his favorite past time.

"You were my Yoda, man."  Spike paused, a wide, devilish, evil grin spreading on his face.  "But I got over it.  You're a bloody poncy wanker who wouldn't know a good thing if it bit you on your ample ass.  Mope all you want git, I'm sure the Dippity Do is a fine companion on those lonely nights.  I'm not leaving you anything, except this mental image.  Me.  Buffy.  Repeatedly.  In many different positions."  Spike chuckled.  "Now go brood on that, soul boy."

Angel looked uneasily around the room, hoping no one had noticed how uncomfortable he'd become at the mention of his precious Dippity Do.  Sweet Dippity Do.  Teacher.  Mother.  Secret Lover.  Ahem.

"Dawn.  How you holding up, nibblet?  Me'n you were always friends, weren't we, platelet?  Sorry I ditched your whiny ass recently, but I busy shagging your sis.  You understand, don'tcha little bit?  Thanks for always letting' me be me, lunchable.  I'm leaving you my most treasured possession – my record collection.  It's all there, a lifetime's worth of bloody brilliant music: the Sex Pistols, The Ramones, D.O.A., Roxy Music.  Hopefully, it'll get you away from that god awful boy band shite you listen too.  I'm sure you'll appreciate it one day, plasma pack."

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!"  Dawn shrieked as she jumped up and did a happy dance.  "Get out of here!  Do you know how much Spike's record collection is worth?  Once I sell that sucker I'll be rich!"  Dawn really didn't understand the idea of keeping a gift.   But then again, she didn't spend much time around other people.

As the gang covered their ears to ward off the inevitable bleeding, only Buffy kept her eyes on the TV, watching Spike's demeanor visibly soften.  He tilted his head low, and looked intently at the camera, eyes raised in a seductive but gentle manner.  Buffy knew she was next, and quivered with near orgasmic anticipation.

"Buffy, I don't know what to say."  He thought for a moment, letting out one of those long unnecessary sighs of non-existent breath, and shrugged.  "You were a right bitch to me most of the time.  What with the tying me up and beating me senseless and calling me names and belittling my feelings and killing my friends and the threats and torment and mind games and yelling.  Always with the yelling."  

Spike shook his head.  His next words were soft, but full of important meaning, powerful.  It was almost a purr.  And Buffy loved his sexy vampire purr.

"I love you, Buffy.  You make me feel alive, with breath and a heartbeat and everything.  Not that I'd ever settle down and be a 9-to-5 Joe Schmoe like the bowling carpenter, because that's a fate worse than death.  Or undeath.  But I do like the not feeling dead when with you part.  And that's something."

Buffy was weeping uncontrollably at Spike's words.  She wondered in passing what got snot out of cashmere.

"I already gave you the only thing of true value I have.  [sap alert] My heart.  Even though I'm gone now, it's yours still.  Always.  Take care of it my love." [/sap alert]

"Spiiiiiiiiike," the newly sexually adventurous slayer keened.  "Oh, Spike, my darling, my heart, my lov – "

"And as for the Swiss Bank account."

Seven heads snapped back to attention at the really dead sexy video vampire.  Except for Clem, who kept himself busy with  Mr. Redenbacher.

"Spike has money?"  Buffy asked between howls.

"I'm not giving my hard-earned cash to any of you."

"But I'm broke!" Buffy sobbed.  "I could only afford three pairs of leather pants, six peasant blouses, nine pairs of boots, and twelve coats this week."

"And I'm aware you're broke Buffy.  But you said you didn't want my money, remember?  Don't ever say I didn't listen to you.  Clem has instructions to liquidate all my assets and donate everything to _Jews for Jesus_."  Spike grinned evilly, as was his wont, since he was an evil vampire.  "They do good work."

"Why is everyone looking at me?" Willow questioned as the six money-less friends glared at the only borderline Jew in the room.

"Alrighty then.  I'm done." Video!Spike jumped off the sarcophagus.  "Don't miss me too much, I'm sure Red can figure out a way to bring me back.  Unless she's still pretending to be addicted to a non-addictive substance.  Okay.  Toodle-oo, cheerio, pip pip and all that.  This is the end of the vampire Spike."  He bowed with a Barnabas Collins worthy flourish, black velvet caressing his beautiful flesh, and then he was gone.

"So, who's up for waffles?"  Xander had already begun to gather his stolen goods and was mentally reviewing the menu at Denny's.

Buffy wasn't having any of it. "Clem, is that it?  That's all he said?"

"Yup."

"Smug bastard, I'll show him."  Buffy picked up the can o' Spike and glowered at it.  "Thinks he can leave me with some beautiful, fancy, sexy, seductive words.  Angel, you said earlier that there was a spell that could bring back a dusted vampire.  Well, we're gonna bring Spike back."

"Buffy, the price of that spell is very high.  I'm not so sure it's worth the risk."

"God, when did you get that pole up your ass?  I want Spike back.  Nothing has ever stopped me from getting what I wanted before, even if it endangered the lives of others.  Remember when I traded Willow for that evil box of the Mayor's?  Coulda saved a whole mess of time and effort if I'd just let it go.  Or when I jumped into that dimensional portal to save the world and then died, when I coulda just pushed Dawn in and saved us and our viewers from the depressive angst of the past seven months?"

Everyone nodded.

"Well, it's time we got back to good, old-fashioned, old school style Scooby work.  Let's research the crap out of this spell, and then get my sex toy back!"

"Yeah!"  Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, Buffy and Dawn exchanged high fives like giddy 10 year olds.

"Buffy."  Angel had to put the kibosh on the happiness and cheering, as it clashed with his dour and dismal demeanor.  "The spell.  It won't bring back Spike.  It'll bring back William."

"What are you talking about?"

"He'd come back human."

Buffy's jaw literally dropped to the floor.  The implications of Human!Spike swirled in her mind.  So many questions.  Would he still love her?  Would he be strong?  Would he be less snarky?  Would he still have that incredible body?

"Human!Spike.  HAHA!"  Xander giggled like the little girl he was turning into due to his overexposure to estrogen.  "It's funny 'cause I could beat him up."

"Angel, are you serious?"

"Yeah.  Human, with a real soul.  You could be with him Buffy, no worries.  And I wouldn't stand in your way."

"Like I'm asking for permission, hair boy."

"If you do this, you need to understand.  He'd be human, but he'd know the things he'd done as a vampire, feel the same pain as I do."

"Well that can't be good.  Look at what a dork you are."

"Tara!"

"What?  I'm not allowed to be snarky?"  Tara was really getting into this idea of having a backbone.

"Look, are we going for waffles or what?"  Anya patted her hungry man's arm in what she had been led to believe was a comforting manner.   

Buffy considered her options.  Nabob!Spike vs. Human!Spike.  Memories of untamed inhibition shattering sex vs. real life fretful, annoying brooding.  Vampire vs. human.  Evil vs. good.  Chip vs. dip.

"No freaking way!"  Buffy shouted.

"So, we're _not_ going for waffles?"

"Buffy, hon, what are you talking about?" Willow put a comforting arm around her best friend's shoulder, and for the first time in three years was positive it wasn't in a gay way.

"No freaking way do I want Spike back like that.  Angel's a big enough of a doofus with a soul."

"Thanks.  Bitch." Oooooh, there was still a little of ole Angelus in Angel.  Loser.

"Can you imagine Human!Spike?"  The gang all thought for a moment.  The girls shook their heads.  Xander continued with the giggling.  "All soft curls and warm little breaths and weak limbs and lame-ass poetry.  Does that sound like someone who can bring the multiple orgasms for five hours at a time?  Give me evil, powerful, cold, hard-muscled, sly, punk-loving, thieving, blood-drinking, Kama Sutra god Spike.  I want _my_ Spike."

"Ask and you shall receive, lucky pants."

Snapping their heads around for the umpteenth time that night and putting themselves at dangerous risk of whiplash, the Scoobs stared with shock at the intruder at the door.  Only Dawn, who recognized the opportunity to grab some attention for herself, managed to speak.

"Hey, Spike."

***********************************************************************

TBC…

**********************************************************************

_Simpson's Quote of the Day: "Asleep at the switch?  I wasn't asleep.  I was drunk!"_


	4. Dead is Better Than Dust

_Previously……_Lots of loyal fans jumped ship when shoddy writing, a complete lack of continuity, and thinly veiled contempt for the viewer made it impossible to follow a show with over six years of complicated lore to remember and sort out.  And then Scully had that damn baby and Mulder left for no discernable reason and my god how boring are Doggett and Reyes?  Oh, sorry, wrong show.  I have issues.

Previously on Buffy……The formerly adorable but now just depressing friends watched Spike's farewell video, and they all learned a valuable lesson from the perceptive and sexy vampire.  So, Tara has a backbone, Xander's craving waffles, Anya doesn't have a lot to do, Dawn …oh, who cares, Angel needs some alone time with his Dippity Do, Willow may only be gay part time, and Buffy really, really likes having sex with Spike.  And lucky for her, it looks like Spike isn't as dusty as she thought.  

************************************************************************

Spike stood in the doorway of his crypt, exuding powerful sexuality as he leaned against the doorframe, his hair tousled just so, a cigarette dangly from his soft, beautiful, wicked curved lips that always gave the appearance of being just kissed.  Which made sense considering the amount of sex he was having with Buffy.

The gang all stared at Spike, no one believing the image before them.  Spike was dead.  They had his ashes.  They had just watched his video.  Something hellmouthy must be going on.

"Hey, Spike."  Dawn repeated her hello.

"Hey, nibblet.  What's with the bloody intervention?"

"Spike?"  Buffy questioned, her poor gaunt body vibrating with pent-up sexual frustration, as she hadn't had sex with the evil but insatiable vampire in almost two weeks and she was just about ready to jump him then and there, weird hellmouthy back-from-the-dust inconsistencies be damned.

"Yeah, luv?"  

"Spike, it's you."  Buffy whispered again.

"Yeah?"

"Spike, you're dead."  Xander pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah."  

"No, you're _really_ dead."  Willow knew she hadn't performed any crack like magic, so she was as confused as everyone else.

"Hello, vampire.  Of course I'm bleedin' dead.  Crikey, Angel, care to explain how this works to them?"

"Spike, we all thought you were, well, dusty."  Angel ran a hand through his hair, mentally trying to wrap his mind around Spike's presence and the fact that he hadn't fixed his hair in over an hour.  The stress was getting to him.

"And you all bloody thought this because?"  Spike moved into the crypt, amusement crossing his chiselled face as the still in disbelief Scoobies followed his every supposedly improbable movement.  Each tried to rationalize his presence in there own way – always a fun activity on the hellmouth.

"Is this a spell?  I'm sure I can figure it out.  I'm a lot more powerful than people think."  Tara ditched the stammer and attempted to get to the heart of the matter.

"Maybe he's Spike from another dimension.  You know, like the one with all the shrimp?"  Anya chimed in with ex-demon like giddiness.

"He's a ghost!  An evil ghost come to haunt us with snide remarks and taunt us with his impossibly well defined six-pack!"  Xander was really reaching with that one.

"Vampires can't be ghosts.  We're already dead."  Angel had that annoying dippy tone again.  "Someone else must have done the resurrection spell."

"Why would someone else resurrect Spike?"  Buffy whined, peeved that bringing Spike back wasn't All. About. Buffy.  "_I'm_ supposed to bring him back.  _I'm_ the one who loves, uh… loaves…loathes…LOATHES him."  Oh, faulty dismount.  I give her an 8.8.

"Blimey, I am in the room people.  Would someone bloody well tell me what's going on?"

"We thought you were gone.  You know, stake, heart, poof, make friends with Mr. Dust Buster."  Willow eyed Resurrected!Spike, in kind of a bisexual way.

"Is that right?  Care to explain why?"

"Well you weren't here, and you weren't out on patrol, and you weren't at the bars."  Buffy pouted mightily and was complaining like a sixth grader who hadn't been given her fair share of candy.  Mmm, Candy!Spike.  "And you didn't say goodbye or leave a note, and you didn't come by and shag me senseless for 7 hours at a time."

Spike smirked his sexy smirk that had the ability to turn any woman's knees to jelly and cause them to rip off their clothes in a pre-orgasmic frenzy.  "Miss me, didja, pet?"

Buffy slowly walked up to Spike, drinking in his lithe body as she went.  Goddess, she had missed him and his all-encompassing sexiness.  

"Uh, guys?"  Angel interrupted the rather graphic undressing each other with their eyes.  Buffy and Spike snapped back to attention, their bodies shuddering with unfulfilled sexual need.  "We sort of need to figure out what's going on here."

"Right then.  Save the reunion shag for later.  Build up a little more tension, right luv?"  Spike gave Buffy a smack on the ass, and leaned up against a sarcophagus.  "So, I wasn't around, and you wankers immediately assume I'm dust.  Wonderful powers of deduction you all have.  Things really have gone downhill since the Watcher left, haven't they?"

"Well, there was all the dust.  Dust usually equals dead vampire."

"You found this dust where, sweetheart?"

"Here, in the crypt.  Like you always said, a big pile of dust.  Look."  Buffy handed Spike the canister she had been carting around for a week like a security blanket.  A freaky, dusty, cheap ass security blanket.

"You put me in a bleedin' coffee canister?  What, no sodding urn?  No bloomin' memorial plaque?"  Spike was deeply offended.  "Oh, I get it, Spike's dirt.  Sweep him up and put him in the nearest tin can, out with the trash.  Forget how much help he's been or how amazingly talented he is sexually…"

"Spike!"  

"Right.  Well, it isn't bleedin' me, obviously.  This dust is just," Spike fingered the grey  powdery substance, "ashes."

"Well, duh, we know that.  But ashes of what?"

"Dunno.  Fags.  Dust.  Cobwebs.  The usual."  Spike shrugged, emphasizing his angular shoulders.  "Still wondering why you thought this was me."

"But…dust…here, in the crypt…you not around…"  Buffy carefully took in the look of the crypt.  Ash.  Check.  Dust.  Check.  Dirt.  Check.  On idiotic sexually frustrated slayer who had been inhaling floor sweepings like some of Willow's magic crack.  Check and check.

"So, you're saying Buffy overreacted?  That the dust was just your shoddy housekeeping?"  Wow, Xander had actually managed to pay attention and comprehend a conversation.

"A kewpie doll for the bricklayer."

"Well then, this has all been a valuable waste of time during which I could have been making money or having sex with Xander."

"But Buffy, how could you be so wrong?"  Willow pointed out one of the major plot holes in this story.  "Shouldn't you know what vampire dust looks like?"

"Yeah, I guess."  Buffy began to tear up.  Not because the occasion called for tears, but because that's what she did now.  Back from the dead?  Cry.  Best friend addicted to magic?  Cry.  Break a nail?  Cry.  Have the best sex of your life?  Cry.  Wake up in the morning?  Cry.  Thank the goddess for Maybelline waterproof mascara.  "It's just I like having sex with Spike so much, but it seems to piss a lot of people off, so when he wasn't around I was afraid that maybe he'd been written off the show."

"Are you insane?  Think about it.  As long as the puffy butt-monkey boy and I are the only men in this bleedin' tragic soap opera, I'm not going anywhere."  Spike took a long, slow, sensuous drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and grinding it under his heel with a swift powerful motion that would turn on any woman.  "Especially if I maintain this hard muscled body and keep agreeing to do the soft core porn shots."

Visualizing Spike's graphic imagery, Buffy began to drool all over her already snot covered cashmere, Anya began planning what she could do to get Puffy!Xander back in shape, Willow began to remember what she used to see in men, and hell, even Tara began to consider giving Spike a go.  Because no one is too gay for a little Spike.

"Uh, guys?"  Xander watched as the girls stood transfixed, images of Naked!Spike traipsing through their minds.

"Hey, we're still standing right here!"  Angel decided it was time to jump back in where no one wanted him.

"'Course you are, Peaches.  No one could miss two hulking masses like yourself and the whelp."  Spike snapped his long sensuous fingers and Buffy, Anya, Willow, and Tara fell out of his sex-induced thrall.

"Right then, now we've sorted out that I'm still undead, the rest of you lot can sod off.  Slayer and I need a shag, isn't that right pet?"

"Oh, yes please!"  Buffy bounced up and down clapping her hands.  Which, when you think about it, is a really odd reaction to an offer of sex.

"Wait." Mr. Anti-Enjoyment Angel struck again. "Where were you then?" 

Spike sighed one of those extremely common but totally unnecessary sighs. "England."

"England?"  Seven voices eerily replied in unison, yet again.  These people really need to stop spending so much time together.

"What of it?  I had things to do.  Told the lunchable I'd be gone for a few days."

"Dawn knew?"  Buffy spoke to her sister for the first time in weeks.   "Why didn't you tell us?"

"No one asked.  No one ever asks me anything.  It's like I'm not even here! Serves you all right thinking Spike was dead!  Maybe now you'll pay some attention to me and listen to what I have to say.  Because I can have valuable info – "  Dawn's shrieking tirade was cut short by a swift and surprisingly powerful kick to the head from Backbone!Tara.

Everyone stared at the unconscious key crumpled on the floor, and then turned their gaze to the witch.

"What?"  Tara smirked.  "We've all wanted to do that for months."

Everyone shrugged in agreement, and turned their attention back to not-so-dusty Spike.

"How did you get to England and back so quickly?"  Tara asked, continuing to take charge of the situation.  That a girl.

"Same way everyone else does.  Took a flippin' plane."

"Vampires can't fly."  Buffy looked from her ex-vampire lover to her current vampire lover.  Boy, the girl really doesn't take the job title too seriously, does she?  "They need to take impractical but romantic cargo ships that will separate them from their lovers for months on end and lead to much crying and angst."

"Did you tell her that?" Spike looked at Anguish Boy and laughed.  "Always one for the melodrama, weren't you, Angel?  Bet you were trying to get her in the sack at the time."

"I wasn't, not really, but then we did, that same night actually.  And well, you know the rest."

"Can we stop talking about my sex life?"  Buffy was tired of talking about sex.  She wanted to be having sex.  Right now.  Repeatedly.  In many different positions.

"Would someone please explain what's going on to me?"  Xander had lost the plot again.  The poor boy.

"Went to England.  Took a plane.  Flew cargo – in a box to avoid any troubles.  It's really not that difficult."

"Why the sudden urge to visit the homeland?"

"Was it Giles?  You went to tell him about our amazingly hot sex life, didn't you?"  Once more, Buffy made everything on the planet All. About. Her.

"No, I just wnttkeenmafunrl." Spike covered his delicious mouth with one of his talented hands as he spoke.

"Huh?"

Spike sucked in one of those long, unnecessary and physically impossible vampire breathes.  He spoke his next words using some of that incredible vampire speed.

"QueenMumdiedIwentotherfuneral."

"You shot who in the what now?  Care to repeat that without the Mumbly Joe impersonation?"

"Queen Mum.  She died.  Went to the funeral."  Spike looked around sheepishly.

"You went to the Queen Mum's funeral?  Were you invited?"

"No!  But I'm bloody English, so I must have an inherent interest in the Royal sodding Family.  And besides, it's the best excuse there was to get me out of town so this bleedin' fic could be written."

"Oh."  This explanation seemed to satisfy everyone.

"And she was a damn fine woman."  Spike felt the need to be all manly and defend himself.   "She put up with all those bloody pansies in her family.  Who's the one that talks to plants?"

"Charles."  Angel impressed no one with his knowledge of the Royal Family.  "I always sort of liked him."

"Figures, you big poofter."

"So, does anyone mind if I recap unnecessarily?"  Willow hadn't said anything in a while, so we'll throw her a bone.  A non-magic one, of course.  "Spike went to the Queen Mum's funeral, safely flying cargo.  He told Dawn, who, proving her complete uselessness, told no one.  Buffy acted like an out of character moron and thought Spike was dead.  We all gathered here to watch Spike's video.  And now he's back and horny as hell.  Is that everything?"

"Yeah.  No, wait."  Realization crossed Spike's amazingly expressive face.  "You watched my flippin' video?  Clem what the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Clem shrugged in his cute little wrinkly demon way.  "Sorry, man, they said you were dust."

"Balls.  Now I have to make a new tape.  Was right proud of the way I flipped you all off, too.  Do you realise how long it takes to come up with a good snark?  Pretty much what I do all day is think up appropriately cutting comments.  Takes up all of my non-slayer shagging time.  No wonder I'm not evil anymore.  No time for it."

"May I ask about your Swiss Bank account?  I'm curious, are there really advantages to banking out of the country?  And are the Swiss really that much better than, say, the Cayman Islands?  Maybe we could discuss the pros and cons – "

Spike was aghast.  He'd forgotten that was on the tape.  "Look, uh, just forget what I said.  Where would a cheap disgusting thing like me get that kind of cash?  It was a complete joke.  Ha bloody ha.  Forget everything I said."  Spike had no intention of telling any of these wankers how much he was really worth.  (Now that's evil!)

Xander clutched his toaster oven to his chest.  "Well, you said I could have back all my stuff.  Too late now."  He was already dreaming of pizza bagels.

"Don't worry Spike, you said a lot of really helpful things.  I have a backbone now because of you."  Tara didn't smile shyly or nod sweetly once as she spoke.

"And I'm beginning to realise that I can enjoy sex with both genders."  Willow added cheerfully.   "I'm totally BI NOW."

"And I…" Buffy walked up to Spike. "…really liked what you said about me.  Made me want to…"  Buffy began to undo Spike's belt as she whispered something imperceptible to human senses in his ear.  (Oh, don't you wish I'd tell you what!)  

Spike gazed down at his petite but durable lover.  "Well, isn't that neat."

The clothes started to fly, regardless of the fact they were engaged in a massive Public Display of Affection.  Of course, Buffy and Spike had already had public sex at the Bronze, on her front lawn, at the Magic Box, on the counter at the Doublemeat Palace, at the Espresso Pump, in every cemetery in town, at the ruins of the old high school.  Basically, you name the place and they'd had crazy, sizzling, out of this world sex there.  A little porn in front of their friends really didn't phase them.

"We should go."  Angel slowly backed towards the door, realizing that he really didn't give a rat's ass what happened to Buffy anymore.  Which was a good thing, because she'd obviously forgotten about him.  "Clem, help me with Dawn will you?"

Willow and Tara made a quick bi and gay escape, followed by Anya, who had to pull a stunned Xander behind her.

"Is that some sort of new vampire slaying technique I don't know about?  Can you kill a vampire by getting him naked and sucking his face off?"

"Oh, Xander."  Anya pulled on her love's enormous forearm.  "I'll explain when we get home.  After we also have sex."  Xander nodded, very happy with his riverside condo in Cairo.

"So, you play kitten poker?"  Clem asked Angel.  He was nothing if not hospitable.

"Can't say as I do."

"It's fun.  I bring my girl along for good luck.  You in?"

Angel thought for a moment.  Him, have fun?  It was a new idea, but worth a shot.  "Sure, only give me an hour to fix my hair and then twenty minutes to feed – oh no!  Wait here a minute."

Running at top vampire speed, Angel ran back to the crypt to pick up the almost forgotten pint-sized plot hole.  See how easy it is to forget something when it makes no sense and you don't care about it to begin with?  Grabbing the baby carrier, Angel bumped his colossal form into a few chairs as he tried to shield his eyes from Buffy and Spike's frenetic and wildly imaginative shagging.  But he could never avoid the audio.

"…sooooo glad you're not dead…am so dead…oh, Spike…Bob's yer uncle, baby…don't mean dead dead…dead is better than dust, pet…oh yes, yes, better, so better…"

Angel made his way back to Clem, who was eagerly awaiting a night of kitties and pussies.  He took a look inside the baby carrier.

"Dude, that is the ugliest looking kitten I've ever seen."

With that, the souled vampire and the whatever-the-hell-he-is demon walked into the mist of the cemetery, dragging Dawn's unconscious body behind them, their departure punctuated by the deafening sounds of Buffy and Spike's reunion mating.

"Oh, oh, this is definitely of the good……Cor, baby, very cor…"

************************************************************************

THE END.

************************************************************************
    
    _Simpson's Quote of the Day: "Life is just one crushing defeat after another until you just wish Flanders was dead."_


End file.
